A Different Kind of Brave
by daftmunky
Summary: What if Jemma Simmons was a different kind of brave? What if she was brave enough to say goodbye? Spoilers for 1x06 FZZT.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note; Hullo everybody! This is my first AoS that I've written. I get a bit nervous writing FitzSimmons, because I just find that I'm not smart enough to do their intelligence justice. But with FZZT it was so emotional that I took it and ran.  
Personally, I was rather angry with Simmons when she jumped without saying goodbye to anyone (after the 50th time I watched that scene at any rate!). I understand the motivations etc, and yes, I think she was incredibly brave, but at the same time I think that it takes a lot more bravery to say goodbye. So this is my take on how I could see her saying goodbye to her family on the BUS. Please leave any constructive criticisms or any comments at all!**

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She looked out to the where the rest of her team were observing her and Fitz work. Coulson was partially hidden behind the spiralling staircase, but was watching them intensely. Skye was standing as close to the windows as she could, occasionally biting her nails (_I told her she really should stop doing that_, she thought idly, half wanting to chastise the young woman). Ward was pacing with his back to them, but she could see him bring a hand up to rub his face agitatedly and May was just standing with her back to her and Fitz. And Fitz – her poor Fitz – was alternating between doing his part of the work before seamlessly switching with her or watching her. She knew even without looking that his expression would break her heart, so she just focused on the science. _This has to work_, she thought, agitatedly. Her observations from the fire fighters gave her a clear idea of what was happening to her. She had started to feel funny around the time that Fitz had given her the delivery device. There were bouts of dizziness and nausea, her temperature was rising and she was sweating, however she was unwilling to worry the team or her partner any further so she just kept working. As the centrifuge switched off and she opened the lid, Fitz off to one side ready to load his device, she felt a wave of dizziness hit her again. The cannister holding the anti-serum floated out of the centrifuge and they all watched until the electro-magnetic field shifted again and it dropped like a stone. She moved to catch it but had to grip the bench quickly to stop herself collapsing. With reflexes she didn't know he possessed Fitz' hand shot out and the cannister landed in his open palm. Not looking at her he loaded the device.

"Third time's the charm," he said. His soft Scottish lilt comforted her in a way that words in general from anyone else couldn't. She looked up and their eyes met. She watched as Fitz pulled a mask on over his features, hiding the pain she knew was barely being contained under the surface. He squared his shoulders and stood to his full height, "May I do the honours?" He asked softly. Before even processing she nodded tiredly, lacking the energy to do any more herself. He smiled at her and she felt her heart constrict. If this didn't work she doubted she would ever see him smile again. As he turned and strode with purpose towards the glass cages she felt herself move forward to follow him. The team gathered on the other side of the glass, crowding round the window in front of the rat cages. The two other test subjects were still hovering limply as if suspended by invisible threads. Fitz lifted the little rat up and zapped it with the anti-serum before placing it carefully back onto the saw dust. She wanted to look away, she wanted to turn her back and not see as the little blue pulse exploded outward and her last hope of survival failed. But she couldn't. It was like a train wreck.

But nothing happened.

"I can't breathe," she heard Skye say on the other side.

Still nothing.

_We've done it_, she thought, hope filling her chest. Fitz looked at her as if for conformation of what they were seeing.

"We did it," she whispered, feeling a grin taking over her face. He just looked at her, not quite understanding. Just as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards a blue glow emitted from the rat and a sound similar to that of a laptop powering down suddenly filled the air making them both turn back just as it flashed white and disappeared. The rat floated limply like its predecessors and her heart plummeted.

"No," Fitz moaned, hanging over the edge of the cage as if he could will the thing to live. _I'm dead_. She felt the tears burning the backs of her eyes but she refused to crumble. Its okay. She had got to do what she loved. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would have had the opportunities that she had done these last few months. Her paren- Oh God, her parents. Coulson would have to tell them. Her mum. Knowing how her mother would react she steeled herself and approached the glass, coming face to face with a very stressed Agent Coulson.

"Sir," she started, proud that her voice wasn't weak or wavering, "I know the protocol in these... circumstances. But could you please... tell my dad first? I just think my mum would take it better if it comes from him." Tears choked her voice and she swallowed hard as Coulson replied vehemently.

"We're not there yet. There's still time."

She closed her eyes and smiled. This man, this wonderful man, was like a second father to her in the months that they had worked and travelled together. He was always there to protect her – to protect them all. But he couldn't protect her now.

"Sir, please," she said, her tone firm. His mouth was set in grim line and she caught the slightest tightening before he nodded once. A strange sense of calm ran through her. Her parents would be okay. As long as they had each other they would be okay. A tear leaked out and the lump was back in her throat. She turned to the rest of the team for the first time and felt a stabbing pain run through her. This was her family. But she had to do something before she could say her goodbyes.

"Would you mind if I had a brief moment alone with Fitz?"

Ward took a step back, not looking directly at her. May gave a tight nod, but turned away too. Skye had tears streaming down her face. She didn't look like she could move on her own. Coulson was the first to reach the stairs and was already disappearing up them but Skye was still at the glass. In an uncharacteristically compassionate move, May wrapped an arm around the younger woman. It warmed her heart to see the team banding together, she just wished it was under different circumstances.

When they had all turned away she reached up and tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks, momentarily forgetting that she was still wearing the black rubber gloves. She sniffed before turning around. Fitz was fiddling with something at the bench determinedly and began speaking.

"Try again. The electro-static pulse from the third rat seemed much less so if," Unable to face her partner she began clearing up the mess they had made around the centrifuge machine as he continued to babble "– we're making progress – if we can calibrate the anti-serum-"

"Anti-serum, yes. You finally got it right, Fitz," she said, feeling more tears make their way down her cheeks. He continued as if he hadn't heard her.

"If we can calibrate the anti-serum then we can-" It was too much.

"Fitz, please stop," she begged, tentatively lifting a hand to place on his back but remembering at the last second about how the virus is transferred. She couldn't risk infecting him.

"Simmons, we can do this!" He cried, shrugging her plea off and taking the little cannister to the centrifuge, skirting around her. Instead of trying to talk to him again she unplugged the little machine. He growled when it wouldn't start and stalked around the bench to her, "Simmons, please. I need to do this," he whispered, meeting her eyes for the first time since the anti-serum failed.

There was no mask this time. All she could see was pain. She knew the same expression was mirrored in her own eyes. He was her colleague, her partner, her fellow scientist and researcher, her best friend – he was everything to her.

In the 7 years that she had known him he had taken over her life. She remembered their meeting clearly, as if it was yesterday. It was in a physics seminar at St Andrews. The lecturer had asked a question and called on a young Leo Fitz to answer. In all fairness, he had been partially right, but his explanation was far too simple to encompass all the necessary elements. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it) she hadn't been able to resist butting in. Now _that_ had caused a spectacular argument... in front of a hundred or so fellow students and had left her fuming. Neither of them had _won_ exactly, the lecturer had called for them to call it quits before they had ripped each other to bits, only adding insult to injury. Afterwards she had been storming through the corridor outside of the lecture hall when a hand grabbed her arm.

"You know, you're points were all valid," he had said, not bothering with pleasantries, "But as an engineer I can tell you that the more practical applications render them void."

"Void?!" She had cried, shaking his hand off and crossing her arms, "What do you mean 'void'?! You only gave half an answer!"

"I'm sorry, but what you were explaining falls under the theoretical field," he calmly stated, offering her a small smile. Seeing he meant no harm she had calmed down a little, enough to actually process what he was saying.

"Okay, well then do you mind explaining to me how the practical use limits the possibilities?"

She wasn't going to deny that she was intrigued by this guy. He seemed to be the same age as her (extremely young to be attending such an advanced seminar) and was obviously almost, if not as, intelligent.

"Yes, if you're prepared to listen to me get a tad over enthusiastic," he replied, smiling at her and extending an arm for her to lead the way. As they'd walked to the campus café and ordered a pot of tea they had made easy small talk. Over their tea he had explained everything to her. Being the eternal student she was she had lapped up everything he had said, and then, after he had asked her about her field of study, the tables turned and he listened to her while she talked about one of the biochemistry PhD's she was completing. After that they had fallen into a rhythm of sorts. They had found that meeting up on Thursday afternoons suited both of them nicely, and so had made it a regular thing. From there it became a natural decision to move together when they had both needed to find new apartments in their relocation to London, and a year after that when they had both gotten placements over in the States at a private research facility that had head hunted them both. Well, turns out that the 'private research facility' was actually a US government department specialising in extra-terrestrial species. The training academy had been one of the best experiences of her life, and being able to go through it with Fitz was incredible. After graduating they had both gone into their fields happily. Until Coulson came to her at the lab she was working in and asking her to become part of the team. And part of the reason Coulson came to her was that he took her and Fitz as a package deal, but he needed her to help get Fitz to agree to leaving the laboratory. And he had reluctantly. But she knew in the months they had been a part of Coulson's special team that things had been different and hard for Fitz, but he really seemed to get it and enjoy it after a rocky start with Ward especially.

And now it was all coming to an end. Fitz' eyes held nothing but pain. He knew what was going to happen; he'd been briefed on the same protocols as she had, after all.

"Fitz," she sighed. He just kept looking at her with unbridled terror, pain, heartbreak. You name it, it was in his eyes. Just as she was about to continue a wave of dizziness came over her again. This time she couldn't steady herself before her knees buckled. She collapsed to the ground in a heap, and Fitz dropped next to her.

"Simmons! Jemma!" He cried, stretching out to her.

"No Fitz!" She pulled away from him, making sure he didn't touch her, "I'm- I'm okay," she murmured waiting a moment before pulling herself up.

"No, you're not," he panicked, his arms extended as if to catch her. "Jemma, please. Sit down at least," he tried, tugging one of their laboratory stools over to her. She agreed, sinking down onto the stool. He moved away from her, but she needed him here.

"You're right. I'm not okay," she admitted quietly, making sure she wasn't looking him in the eye as she spoke. The tears were already streaming steadily down her cheeks but she carried on, "But Fitz, this was a possibility." "You dying was never a possibility to me!" He shouted, pacing in front of her, "I was told it would be a mobile command centre, where we would have a lab, and we would do research on the fly – literally! – for S.H.I.E.L.D! I need my lab partner, Simmons. I need you here. This was supposed to be _our_ adventure. We're a package deal, remember? FitzSimmons. They can't have one without the other. I- I can't do this without you, Jemma," he finished in a whisper, dropping to the ground in front of her with his hands clutching his hair. She sighed and slithered down to join him, going to put her hand on one of his folded knees but remembering at the last minute, instead allowing it to hover there.

"Leo," he looked up at her use of his first name (she so rarely said it under any circumstances), "I need you to do something for me."

"No, Jemma, we're not doing this," He said, shaking his head vehemently, "I am _not_ saying goodbye to you. You're- You have to be fine."

"Promise me, Leo," she said, ignoring his interruption, "I want you to promise me that no matter what happens, you remember that I... that I died doing what I love, with the people I love. Promise?" She finished in a whisper, her eyes begging him to understand.

"I promise," he finally agreed, his voice choked with tears. All of a sudden he tugged her to him, pulling her into his lap, and buried his face in her neck. She fought to get away, but he seemed surprisingly strong, his arms like vices around her.

"Fitz, you can't get ill!"

"I don't care, I don't care," he whispered into her. The fight left her then and she sagged against him. It was safe and familiar and provided the comfort she needed. She felt the hot tears against the skin of her neck as well as her cheeks. _As long as I don't shock him he'll be okay_, she kept reminding herself, tucking her head into his neck too. They sat for what felt like forever, wrapped together. She couldn't admit it to him but she felt herself getting weaker, yet somehow stronger at the same time. It was the electro-magnetics she knew. Taking it as a warning she untangled herself from him and managed to pull herself up with the assistance of one of their fixed workbenches. Fitz followed her, arms out again, ready to sweep her up at any sign of weakness.

"Do you think I could have a moment alone?" She asked him, wiping the tears from her face again, "I have to say some thing's to... to everyone. I just need to... compose myself." She sniffed and gave him a watery smile. He still had the pained expression but nodded, walking to the back corner of the laboratory and disappearing into his back room. She quickly pulled off her gloves and dried her cheeks, wiping under her eyes to check that her make up wasn't smudged. After straightening her clothes she retied her ponytail, hating that this sweaty, poorly looking appearance is how they would remember her. When she was satisfied that she'd done the best she could she walked to the intercom panel and called the control room. She knew someone would be there, she just hoped that they hadn't been watching her and Fitz. Clearing her throat she activated her intercom.

"Is someone there?" She asked, once more proud that her voice was still holding strong.

"You have me," she heard Ward's growl crackle over the speaker and felt her heart pang at his tone.

"Agent Ward, hello," she tried to sound as amiable as possible, but knew she was failing, "Do you think you could ask Skye to come down to the loading dock?"

"On it," was the only reply she got. She sighed and pulled her stool to the window so that she could talk to her friends without collapsing to the ground. She saw Skye's boots appear at the top of the spiral staircase and soon all of her friend was there. She put on her brightest smile she could muster and hoped it comforted her just a little. Skye's lips trembled and Simmons saw a few tears leak out.

"Hullo, Skye."

"Hi."

"How are you feeling?" She asked, hating how phoney the conversation sounded. Then again, they had never really done small talk.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" Skye tried to smile, but apparently it was too hard.

"Oh, I'm fine, you know, considering," she said, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

"Really?" Skye asked, raising an eyebrow sceptically. She chose not to answer, and instead steered the conversation to what was important.

"I need you to do something for me, well, a couple of things," she started, checking to see her friend was listening.

"Anything."

"For starters, go easy on Coulson and Ward," she started with a slight chuckle, "They may seem indestructible but they do have a soft spot for protecting people."

"Yeah, well hopefully they can protect themselves," Skye grumbled, but shot her an apologetic look.

"They can and they will. Second, please can you pack my things up for transport back to my parents. I know that we haven't been friends for that long but I would rather have you rooting through my things than one of the boys." They both laughed at that, picturing Ward and Fitz folding her bras, but it was brief, "And," she checked over her shoulder to see that Fitz wasn't in earshot before turning back and leaning closer to the glass to reduce the risk of being overheard, "Fitz isn't going to be dealing with this well. Do you think you could just keep an eye on him? I need to know he's going to be okay..." She trailed off battling tears again. When she composed herself enough to look up she saw Skye clasping a hand over her mouth and her shoulders shaking, tears running down her cheeks. "Oh Skye, its okay, you know."

"No, its not," Skye said shaking her head vehemently, "You're like my sister, Simmons, I never got to have a family, until you guys found me." She lifted her hand and put it on the glass. Simmons mirrored her friend, putting her hand up as well.

"Thank you, Skye," she whispered. They sat like that for a while, not speaking just processing.

"I can't do it. I can't say it. Its all I've heard my life and I really don't want to hear it now, not now," Skye whimpered.

"Then we won't say it," she said with a perkiness not suited to the situation, "We'll just say... 'see you later'."

"'See you later'? Seriously, Simmons?" Skye let out an unbelieving chuckle but it died out quickly and the wobbly lip was back, "I suppose I should let the others come down here..."

"Yes, I suppose so. Could you please, get them to come down together? It will be a lot easier... for me," she said, removing her hand from the glass and playing with her fingers in her lap. Skye nodded and stood up, walking haltingly towards the staircase, just as she was disappearing Simmons remembered something, "Oh, and Skye?"

"Yeah?"

"You really do need to stop biting you're nails," she said weakly, waving. Skye let out a laugh but carried on up the stairs.

"Fitz?" She called, waving to him through the glass at the office to get him come out.

"All done?" He asked, no longer looking composed. His eyes were red and puffy and he could no longer muster a smile.

"No, but I want to talk to everyone, as a family," she said firmly, pulling up another chair next to hers.

"Yeah, a family that's just going to have to dump you," he sulked, collapsing into the proffered chair and crossing his arms angrily.

"Fitz-" she started but the sound of their team making their way down the stairs stopped her. She put on a bright smile, "Hullo everyone."

"Jemma. How are you doing?" Coulson asked getting right to the point.

"Oh, I've felt better," she said, her tone evasive. Coulson gave her a reprimanding look, May's lips twitched and Ward rolled his eyes. Skye smiled weakly and leaned against Ward, apparently not caring that he wasn't exactly in a comforting mood. Fitz snorted next to her and she rolled her eyes at him before turning back to the group, "Now, I made a promise that I wouldn't say the 'G' word, so this is not going to be a time for hysterics – Skye."

"Is there anything we can do for you?" May asked in her quietly commanding way.

"Oh, no, I'm fine. But you could make sure that Fitz here leaves and-"

"I'm not leaving you, Jemma!" He cried angrily, throwing his hands up in exasperation. She took a deep breath in, begged the Gods for patience before turning to him and fixing him with a firm eye.

"Leo Fitz. Whatever this virus is, I'm contagious. You need to leave, please. I can't control this."

"She's right, Fitz," Ward spoke up for the first time, "We need to get you out of there and keep you out of the area."

"I'm. Not. Leaving." Fitz ground out between gritted teeth. She sighed and slumped in her chair, defeated. She tuned out while Ward, May and Coulson tried to reason with her partner. For all its worth, Leo Fitz was stubborn to a fault. After a while Skye cut in.

"Guys, its not worth it. He's not going to leave any time soon."

"Exactly," Fitz said smugly.

"Agent Fitz." Coulson's tone made it clear that he was no longer being compassionate, "This is not a request. You are to vacate the laboratory, ensure you are clear of the virus, and report upstairs to the command room."

Silence fell over the group. Simmons was grateful for Coulson's understanding. What was about to happen, she didn't want him to bear witness. Ward was fidgeting uncomfortably (a trait that betrayed how he felt about what was to happen). After a moment she felt Fitz draw himself up next to her and set his shoulders.

"With all due respect, Agent Coulson, I am the only other person on this plane that can help Agent Simmons find a cure for the virus, or some way to slow its affects. So no, I will not vacate the laboratory."

"Fitz!" She breathed. Her best friend just back chatted their superior agent _and_ defied a direct order! When she looked to Coulson for his reaction she was shocked to see pride in the older agents face. Once again she was surprised when it was Ward who sided with her.

"Fitz, this is not the place for you right now. Things are only going to get more dangerous in there-" he started but her partner jumped to his feet and got right up to the glass.

"You mean you're going to come in here with a gun and shoot my partner- my best friend! - and you just want me to leave and go and sit upstairs and have a cup of tea and that's that?! Not going to happen, Ward!" When he stepped back his chest was heaving and he once again had tears in his eyes. On the other side of the glass Ward stiffened, his jaw tightening and hands balling into fists. Skye gasped and turned to Coulson in a panic. _Oops, I guess she _didn't _know the protocol for these situations._

"Shoot? What- Coulson, what's he talking about?" Coulson didn't reply, just kept his eyes focused forward on the furious team engineer.

"Its protocol," May said quietly, also not looking at Skye, "We have to dump infected cargo." Simmons flinched at being referred to as 'infected cargo', but that was the truth.

"But-"

"No, Skye. Its okay. If they do nothing I am going to emit an electro-magnetic pulse that will knock this aircraft from the sky and kill all of you," she tried to explain, but it didn't work. The young woman turned and started punching Ward's chest, yelling at him that he couldn't, that it wasn't right. Simmons started to cry at her friends plight. It was futile. She had to die, it was the only way to keep them safe. May snapped into action and wrapped her arms in an iron tight grip around Skye's torso, pinning her arms to her chest, and hauled her away, tugging her up the stairs. As her kicking feet disappeared Simmons could still hear her friend screaming. Coulson gave a curt nod to Ward and threw her a pained smile before following the two women. Ward was frozen like a statue with his eyes closed. Simmons took the opportunity to turn to her best friend.

Fitz was still looking stubborn but his tears were falling fast. As she opened her mouth he shook his head and reached out to her but she ducked out of his grip walking backwards towards the bench.

"No, Jemma, please!" He begged, his voice choked, "Please, we can do this!" With renewed energy he ran to the Chitauri helmet and started examining it for more epithelial cells. Her heart constricted in her chest and she quietly unclipped the fire extinguisher behind her.

"Leo, its okay. I just have one more thing," she was saying while she heaved the heavy cannister up and approached him quietly, "In my bedside cabinet, in the bottom drawer, is a little something I got for your birthday next month-"

"No, you can give it to me then," he said, but his distracted tone let her know that he wasn't going to turn away from his work.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and before he could turn she rammed the extinguisher into the back of his neck, not hard enough to break anything, just hard enough to stun him. He dropped like a sack and she yelped, dropping the extinguisher and falling to her knees next to him, "I'm so sorry, Fitz, I'm so sorry!" She cried, rolling him over carefully and running her still gloved hand through his short curly hair. Just as she started to sob she dragged herself away, taking deep, calming breathes, and stood. She removed her gloves and cleaned her face before knocking on the window to get the Ward-statue's attention. The agents eyes snapped opened and he looked behind her, seeing Fitz' crumpled body.

"Wha-"

"He's just stunned," she reassured him, not trusting herself to turn around, "It was the only way." He nodded and unsealed the doors, letting them slide open. She moved forward and tried to smile at him reassuringly, but her eyes drifted to the gun holstered at his hip. "Is it- Will it hurt?"

"Only if I miss," he replied tersely, but she knew that in his own way, Ward was making a joke to make her feel better, and she appreciated it.

"Oh, well then I guess I'm never going to know what hit me," she replied, but winced when she realised what she said. Ward just raised his eyes and un-holstered the weapon. She turned quickly and sealed the doors again. _Just in case_, she thought painfully. With her head held high she turned and positioned herself opposite Ward, with her back to the lab. She looked up and winced when she saw the barrel of the pistol trained on her already. As she took a deep breath and closed her eyes a strange sense of calm washed over her. She was going to die, and she was okay with it. She counted her remaining heart beats. 1...2...3...

"JEMMA!" Fitz' cry from behind her made her turn on instinct, he sounded like he was in so much pain.

BANG.

Fire.

And then everything went black.

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**A/N; Um, this kind of got a way from me. Honest. It grew legs and ran in a totally different direction! I'm actually considering writing another chapter of this, but I shall post it as complete in case I decide not to. Let me know if you'd be interested to read more, probably the aftermath from Fitz' POV. Cheers,**

**daftmunky xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note; I couldn't do it. I'm so sorry. I couldn't leave it. This isn't left much better, and it's a lot shorter, but I couldn't leave it like that.**

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The pain at the back of his neck was incredible, and he reached up to probe where it hurt. His vision danced still, but the black dots were minimising enough for him to push himself up, clutching onto the workbench so he wouldn't collapse.

"Wha-" He began to say, but then he noticed that there was no one else in the lab with him. That wasn't right. _Jemma was supposed to be quarantined in here_, he thought, his brain still foggy from the blow to his neck. He looked around, feeling the panic filling his chest, compressing his lungs. He tried to skip over the rats still floating unnaturally in their glass enclosures, but a white blue burst of light drew his attention. The third rat glowed momentarily, and then dropped back to the sawdust, squeaking and sniffling around.

"What the-" _It worked! It- We did it! It worked!_ "-Jemma!" He cried, whirling around to seek out his partner. This was it. They could save her! He snatched up the abandoned delivery device and a canister containing the precious anti-serum. Movement on the other side of the glass caught his eye and he looked up, feeling his heart stop.

Simmons had her back to him, but he could see the tension from where he was stuck frozen in place, but that's not what made the panic swell in his chest. Ward was pointing a gun at her. Fitz watched in horror, taking in all the physical signs of someone preparing to pull a trigger. He watched Ward took a deep breathe, his lips parting as he exhaled slowly and deliberately, his shoulders tensed and as he cocked his head ever so slightly it was like a switch had been flipped which sent Fitz into motion. He threw himself at the door release, but it was no use - it was sealed from the outside still.

"JEMMA!" He screamed, hearing the echoing desperation mix with the explosion of the gun. Time slowed and he saw her turn toward him and for a split second he thought he had fixed everything. He thought he had saved her, his best friend. But then she crumpled to the ground and there was blood.

Ward reacts the second he hears the scream, dropping the gun and racing to her side. Fitz watched as the agent fell to his knees, checking for a pulse at her neck. He felt his own heart trying to escape his chest and the blood turning to ice in his veins. _He killed her_. The words echoed in his head and suddenly he felt himself filled with so much rage and hatred he thought he might explode.

"DON'T TOUCH HER! DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!" He screamed, ramming against the glass over and over and over, trying to break through them, trying to reach her. There was a commotion on the steel stairs and the rest of the team appeared. Coulson dropped to his knees next to Ward, ignoring the apoplectic young man behind the glass, and Skye fell back against the stairs clutching them and sobbing. May is the only one who seems to register him. She races over to the control panel and releases the doors, freeing him from the glass prison. As soon as he is released he collapses forward, his vision tunnelled ignoring all of them except _him_. Fitz felt as though someone else had taken over his body as he flew towards the man still crowding over Jemma. With a foreign strength he threw him off of her, flattening him to his back and straddled him. Screams were ripping from his throat, but he couldn't tell you what it was he was screaming. He didn't care either. She's dead. He killed her. He heard rather than felt his fist connecting with the other man's face once, twice, three times before someone captured his arms and hauled him away. He didn't see who it was he held him, but he struggled against them until they finally released him and he collapsed to the ground, crawling desperately towards her. He copied _his_ earlier actions and touched his fingers to her neck. Her skin is already cool to the touch and that would terrify him in and of itself, but what truly scares him is that he can't feel anything except her cold clammy skin under his fingers. An anguished sobs tears its way up from his chest. All energy drains from his at once and he collapsed onto her chest, one hand still at his chest and the other knotting itself in her shirt. The sobs kept coming and he was once more being tugged away from someone. He didn't fight it this time, just collapsed to the side of her body, landing in something warm and sticky. Oh, oh God, its blood. _Her _blood. Jemma's blood. His stomach heaved and he scrambled away, clutching his stomach and trying to fight the nausea. His vision tunnels and he can't hear anything. A tinny ringing blocks all other noise out and suddenly he can't breathe. The oxygen isn't getting to his brain. Its not getting to his lungs. Dots invade his vision. His head is pulsing. He can't- He can't- Jemma. He needs Jemma. The vision he still has focuses on her. He can only see her hand. Someone's knelt where he had been, gently pressing their fingers to her neck. His hearing comes back all at once. Everything seems to be amplified. A startled cry draws his attention. It came from the person taking her pulse. Skye, he realizes.

"Di- Can- She- Pulse! I felt her pulse! She- She's alive!"

Once more the team leaps into action. May holds him back from scrambling back to his partner. Coulson is directing Skye to apply pressure. As Ward falls to start CPR the news sinks in. She's alive. Jemma's alive. And once more he tried to get to Ward.

"No. NO! THIS IS YOU'RE FAULT! LEAVE HER AL-"

May's hand snaps over his mouth, muffling the screams.

"He's her best hope," she growled in his ear, dragging him bodily from the cargo hold, up the stairs. He struggles against her, trying to get back down to his Jemma. But to no avail. When they reach the  
lounge she throws him onto the couch and pins him down.

"You either stay here, and let me go back down there and save your partners life, or I knock you out." He doesn't respond, just continues struggling, "Knock out it is."

An arm wraps around his neck and his vision goes black.

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**A/N; Stay tuned! I have to continue now I suppose... Let me know what you think please! Reviews not only make my day, but they are so helpful when looking at where you all want the story to go. My love to all of you who have read, favourite or followed, and especially to those of you have reviewed!**

**daftmunky xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note; Please don't shoot! I'm so sorry its taken me so long to get this up! My muse had abandoned me and I just couldn't find the best way to continue! But inspiration struck this morning in the form of a lovely review from Credit18! So thank you, sweetheart :)**

**Anyway, think of this as sort of Part 1 of 2. I'm thinking next chapter may be from Skye's POV, and then the second part of Grant's. What do you think? Who's point of view is it you want to see?**

**But read on! Review, favourite, review, follow, review! Please?**

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"You mean you're going to come in here with a gun and shoot my partner - my best friend! - and you just want me to leave and go upstairs and have a cup of tea and that's that?! Not going to happen, Ward!"

Ward froze where he was staring at the furious Scotsman on the other side of the glass doors. He had known, since seeing that last rat begin to float, that that was going to be the outcome, but wasn't prepared to hear it thrown at him like the young engineer just had. Skye's panicked words were heard, but he didn't register them as he continued to stare at the younger man, the guilt and self hatred crashing down on him all at once. For the first time in his considerable amount of fieldwork Agent Grant Ward didn't know if he could carry out an order because his emotions were affecting him.

Skye hammering her fists into his chest was what brought him back to the present, but he did nothing to defend himself. It was the least he could do to make whatever grieving process Skye had started easier, and he knew that it was the only bit he would be a part of. She wouldn't be able to work with him after this, he was sure of it. So he let her continue, absorbing the impact her fists were making and the screaming.

And then it was over.

May had come and bodily removed Skye from him and was dragging the screaming girl to the upper deck. For the first time he looked at Coulson, and the older man tried to hide how much he was struggling with the situation by giving a curt nod before following the female agent and resident hacker up the stairs. The door hissed shut behind him and Ward found himself suddenly struggling to breathe. The sidearm on his hip felt like it was made totally of lead, and he became so hyper aware of the weapon. And he didn't like it.

A rapping noise once more drew him back into the horrifying situation he was in, and he looked up to see Simmons - young, beautiful, lively, genius Simmons - looking like she was going to drop from exhaustion, despite the slight tug at one corner of her mouth. Registering that he couldn't hear or see the Scotsman trying to reason with her or hanging off of her prompted him to look around. _Maybe she convinced him to go,_ he hoped. He didn't think he would ever be able to do what was necessary if the other young man was present. Looking passed Simmons he was shocked to see Fitz lying on his back on the floor.

"Wha-" he started, but she cut him off.

"He's just stunned," she said quickly, her voice sounding stuffy and he knew it was because of the tears that were swiped from her cheeks haphazardly, "It was the only way.."

She didn't need to finish the sentence for him to understand. But at the same time he was so confused. How had she been so focused on how everyone else was feeling or how everyone else was going to be affected in the face of her imminent departure from this world? But he couldn't deal with that now.

Ward had never been more thankful for his training when he flipped that mental switch and turned off all his emotions. Things became clearer. He began assessing the area as if from a detached perspective, like he was back at the Academy watching simulations before quoting procedure. He unsealed the doors and turned, positioning himself where the punch bag usually hung, squaring his feet and concentrating on his breathing.

"Is it- Will it hurt?" The target spoke and he had no control over himself. She overrode his switch, flicking all his emotions back on. He recognised that she needed an answer, but he didn't give her the truth.

"Only if I miss." He tried to go for joking, but knew it failed. He had heard the three younger team members in the lab that morning, doing terrible impressions of him, knew they were joking about how he was such a good shot (as long as there wasn't wind), so he idly thought that it may reassure her some. He was surprised when her lips ticked up in a smile.

"Oh, well then I guess I'm never going to know what hit me."

And just like that he switched it all off again. He un-holstered his weapon and prepared himself to eliminate the threat. As he raised his weapon she turned quickly to the control panel in the wall and he heard the beeping that indicated that she had once more sealed the laboratory doors, rendering them useless to the young man now trapped alone inside. He ignored the way she flinched when she faced him and found the barrel of the gun levelled at her head. (_A gun that she and her partner modified_, his cruel mind reminded him of his and Fitz' argument just a few weeks prior.) The rest was so ingrained in him he could totally shut down. Square his shoulder. Ground his back foot, tipping his weight ever so slightly forward. Sight the target. Deep breath in. A quick tightening of muscles. An explosion-

"JEMMA!"

And with that split second what had been the worst situation imaginable got infinitely worse.

No longer on autopilot Grant tossed his weapon aside and fell to his knees, desperately checking for a pulse. He was in two minds. If he couldn't identify a pulse it would be a good thing - she wouldn't be suffering. She wouldn't be in pain. If he did find a pulse, it could be both good and bad. The good - she would be alive. The bad - she would most likely discharge her electromagnetic pulse and knock the plane with them in it out the sky.

And he hated himself for hoping that she was dead.


End file.
